Grenada to Bonaire

The Grenadine islands are not far from each other.  After 7nm to Carriacou and checking thru customs at Hillsborough, we motored a mile over to Sandy Island to pick up a mooring buoy, relax away from docks and towns and people and internet, and spend the night.   It was another rollicking reach the next day, 15nm, to Ile de Ronde.  Laughing, Julie declared that the occasional 8’ swell on the way “had to be 30’ high!”   The guidebooks recommend this stop as a lunch stop only.  They warn that it can be too rolly to be comfortable overnight but we found it to be ideal.  Maybe our timing was lucky.  The holding ground was good sand in the NE corner of the island’s leeward side (rocky elsewhere), and wind and swell well blocked.  The water was very clear, the snorkeling excellent, lots of little fish there.  It was our last wilderness stop for this crew and it was worth celebrating. 

A mile and a half away was/is an underwater volcano.  “Kick ‘em Jenny” is 593’ below the surface and last erupted in 1989.  There’s an exclusion zone around her that isn’t enforced.  We decided that if the water got suddenly warmer while snorkeling, we might take that as our cue to weigh anchor and sail away from Jenny. 

I think it was enroute from Ile de Ronde that Jim hooked into a big swordfish.  I’ve never heard a reel spin off line so fast.  He managed to slow it down only long enuf to see the fish jump twice. , “DID YOU SEE THAT?”  he shouted.  I was too busy trying to slow Akimbo down so he could reel the fish in, so i didn’t see it.  Barry saw the second jump before the fish tore the last of the fishing line off the reel and disappeared.  But they both estimated the fish to be about 6’ long without its sword.  Wow!  I doubt we could have handled it if we had landed it.  But it was 15 seconds of heart racing fun. 

On to Grenada, we had a good sail tho the island is big enuf to create a wind shadow.  In one of the calm spots we finally shook the reefs out of the mainsail.  Tho it was good to see the whole sail hoisted again, it wasn’t long before we could have reefed again.  Still, we left it all the way up and trimmed it to spill whatever extra wind we didn’t want to catch. 

Once in the harbor, we found it was rung around with traffic and we were told anchoring near the new marina is prohibited.  Lucky thing, because anchoring outside the harbor off a beach was much better. 

Barry, Patrick, Julie and i dinghied in to town to explore.  Along the waterfront called the Carenage about half the storefronts looked out of business.  We were virtually the only white folks walkin’ around and were an obvious target for panhandlers.  At which point i really got tired of being ‘hit on’ for money, even by little kids.  But so it goes when inequities are so large. 

Next day was this crews last sail, 9nm round to the south side of Grenada where several inlets pierce the shore.  In this last bit of sailing we found we remembered how to beat into a stiff wind.  We tied up at the Prickyly Bay Marina and enjoyed “two for one” pizza night there.  We also met two of the next crew, Jeff and Doug. 

I arranged a half day tour for us to visit a few waterfalls the next day.  This was gold!  Our guide, Raul, shared a LOT of his knowledge of the local plants – we felt surrounded by wilderness harvests and were surprised by the agriculture taking place on wild hillsides.  Grenada is known as “the spice island.”  Raul showed us cocoa seed pods, cracked one open and we sucked on the white tangy pulp that wraps the seeds.  Nutmeg abounded.  The seeds are wrapped in thin red ribbons of mace.  Etc….  It felt great to get out for a hike in natural wonders and even better to go swimming under the waterfalls.   This is a lush place! 

Jim and Heather had been aboard Akimbo six weeks by the time they departed.  I was sad to see them go.  Years ago, Jim solo sailed his own boat from Alaska to Mexico, out to Hawaii and back.  I felt lucky to add his experience to my own, as a double check of my decisions.  He and Heather are low maintenance folks who take care of themselves.  They are understanding of others and of what a trip like this requires.  Thank you both for helpin’ me out and contributing so much here.  

Barry was next in seniority for the crew departing in Grenada.  Thank you for your spirit of fun, wakin’ us up mornings with a ‘too sexy’ dance song on the stereo.  And for assuming as many duties as i could let go of.  You were always ready. 

Julie and Patrick jumped right in 10 or so days ago and were eager crew.  Reflecting the newness of this experience, they reminded jaded me of how wondrous sailing and distant horizons are.  Thank you both. 

While in Grenada i tried to connect with a sail loft, to give the jib a “tune-up.”  But we were there over the weekend and they were closed.  We almost hung out a few extra days to take the jib in, but it looks like we could make the passage to the ABCs between a couple waves of weather.  So i’ll hope to find another loft in Bonaire or Curacao.  We’ll be ahead of schedule, so we can layover a few days somewhere for the jib’s sake.

For now, Doug, Jeff, Jim, Tina and i are on our watch schedule and on our way to Bonaire.  Wind and waves are behind us and we’re lookin’ forward.  

(three days later)  Our 400 miles went about as smoothly as they could.  We hoisted the jib alone the first day and night.  Next day we were under the genoa alone, and enjoyed flying the drifter for an hour or so.  Back to the genoa for the night, the drifter for the afternoon, and came in to Bonaire at the crack of dawn under the genoa.  The hard part of the trip was passing by Los Roques without stopping, the most beckoning of Venezuela’s offshore islands.  Cruising friends and the cruising community websites warn Americans away from Venezuela for political reasons.  Worse still when we chatted with another “yachtie” (as we are titled) who has been cruising in and out of Venezuela without a problem – but then he is a Brit. 

400 miles in 66 hours.  6 knot average speed.  Let’s hope this was a preview of the Panama to Hawaii leg.  Along the way we caught and released 3 baracuda and dined on a small tuna.  At night, our bio-luminescent wake looked like a swarm of fireflies trailing off of Akimbo.  Squalls were few and any rain they gave us was welcome.  We rotated thru our watch schedule strictly at night (so no one is on deck alone) and loosely during the day. 

Bonaire is fiercely protective of their reefs.  Anchoring is prohibited, unless a boat is too big to rely on the moorings provided (in which case the harbor master carefully directs one where to anchor).  Approaching one of the moorings, the depth went quickly from over 200 feet deep to 12.  The entire leeward coast looks like this.  All this bodes really well for snorkeling.  Look at the color change in the water just aft of Akimbo.  Imagine snorkeling from there, off her stern and floating over that edge from 12 and 20 feet deep, past the ‘cliff’ edge, and now you are floating over water hundreds of feet deep, looking back at the cliff itself, in incredibly clear water. (Kristin, THIS could be your next dive destination).

Planning:  1.  There are some squalls (“dark uglies”) coming our way this weekend.  They deserve and have our respect, but at least they are going the same direction we are.  2.  I’m in e-mail dialog with a sailmaker in Curacao (40ish miles away), but this is Friday and he doesn’t work on the weekend.  So, let’s enjoy snorkeling here today and tomorrow.  Blast to Curacao Sunday.  Tour there Monday and maybe Tuesday while the sail is tuned-up.  Long day’s sail to Aruba on Wednesday.  That gives the crew Thursday and Friday to tour before flying out on Saturday.  Sounds “good on paper” to me.

But…something feels different now.  Something foundational.  We are no longer “going south," rather we are west bound.  We are no longer sailing farther from where we are going.  Our “scenic route” is taking us closer to our destination now.  There's a ripple effect from this, some change in dimension.  We’ve turned a corner.